


Shades of Gay

by aikane



Category: The Pianist (2002)
Genre: Art Major AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 22:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6347413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aikane/pseuds/aikane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Art major AU where Szpilman finds a piece of art that isn't in any museum"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shades of Gay

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to hell.  
> First time posting hope you like it ;)  
> Also this was not proof-read let me know if there are any mistakes.

Wladyslaw Szpilman was sort of a lucky guy, considering he was one of the few art majors who was accepted into the finest art school in Germany. He also happened to be lucky when it came to being in the right place at the right time. And today was no exception.   
~  
It was nearing 12:30, which meant that Szpilman had to be in his Advanced Study of Life 133 class in 5 minutes. He quickly jogged across the campus and made his way to the classroom directly to the left of the main entrance. Normally, his class was just painting the same bowl of fruit from several different angles until he got a piece that was worthy of a passing grade. But today, the professor said he had a special treat for them. 

Szpilman walked into class and set up his easel like normal. He decided to shake things up today and use pencils instead of his normal acrylic paint set. As he sharpened his 4B pencil, the weary-looking professor walked in followed by a stunning, blonde man wearing a robe.   
"As promised, I have a surprise for you all today," the professor greeted his class. "Today, we will be studying a different and more advanced form of life."

At this point, Szpilman was half-way paying attention because his sharpener was malfunctioning. He could care less about who or what he was supposed to be drawing today; it was the second half of the semester, what would you expect? As he tried to clean out his sharpener, the beautiful model stepped onto the platform and introduced himself in a deep and soothing voice:  
"I'm Wilm Hosenfeld, and I'll be your model today."

After he introduced himself, he dropped his robe and got into a pose similar to the statue of David.   
There were a few gasps and giggles from the students due to this being the first time they had ever done something like this; still ignorant to what was going on in front of him, Szpilman began sharpening all of his other pencils while quietly humming a piece he learned not too long ago. In response to the class's behavior, the professor gave them a stern look, and the students all changed their attitudes and prepared themselves to begin their artwork. 

After he was sure most of the class was ready, the professor announced, "You will have until the end of the period to create a piece based off of your model in the medium of your choice. Remember, this piece will have a very heavy impact on your final grade, so do your best!" 

And with a final open and close of the door, the professor left. The sudden slamming of the door brought Szpilman back into reality. He glanced up to see the model, and his reaction was knocking down his easel and blushing profusely. His classmate next to him looked over and asked, "Are you alright?"  
"I-I'm just fine, t-thanks," Szpilman replied in a somewhat nervous tone while picking up his belongings. He looked up again to confirm that the model was, in fact, real and not some angel from another world. His beautiful blonde hair complemented his blue eyes, and his chiseled features cut into Szpilman's brain like a knife. His features were absolutely gorgeous and unbelievable.   
When a few minutes had already passed by, Szpilman noticed he was staring, and it was quite noticeable. After he realized he was doing this, he quickly regained focus and turned around to get a bottle of water from his bag. He drank a couple of sips and thought to himself, "Why am I acting this way? He isn't any different from the other people I've been around in school. Just do your drawing and get out."

He turned back around to face his easel and began to trace an outline of the figure using basic shapes and a very shaky hand. The lines were obviously affected by his unsteadiness, and he was in too much of a rush to notice. After about an hour, he put in the final touches with one of his darker pencils and hurried to rush out of the door, where the professor happened to be standing. 

"Hello, Mr. Szpilman," the professor greeted.   
"H-hi," he replied. "I was just, uh, leaving."  
"That was quick. May I see your drawing?" the professor asked.   
Szpilman held up his art work and noticed how awful it was. All of the proportions were off, and the shadows and highlights weren't correctly blended.   
The professor made a "tut" noise and handed the large sheet of paper back to his student. "I suggest you do that again, Mr. Szpilman. You're one of my favorites, but I don't want you to have to take my class any more than you need to."

Szpilman turned and walked back into the classroom. He threw away his first piece of art into the trash can and went to his usual easel. At this point, most of the class was gone, and their art was placed on the professor's desk. Szpilman felt like he would be here for a long time. He looked up at his model once again and still felt the same way he did the first time he saw him: stunned. The model turned his head slightly down to look at him and casually smirked at him. This didn't help Szpilman at all; he turned as red as a tomato. The model returned to his previous position and stood there for the rest of class. 

At the end of the period, Szpilman was the only one left. Yet again, he put the finishing touches on his piece and turned it in to the professor's desk. As he was leaving, Hosenfeld caught up with him. Szpilman didn't notice until the model was directly at his side, and he jumped a little at his presence.   
"Oh, h-hello. I'm Wladyslaw Szpilman. N-nice to m-meet you." He put his hand out for Hosenfeld to shake, which he did. His grip was firm, and his hand was so warm.   
"I'm Wilm Hosenfeld, nice to meet you, too," Hosenfeld replied.   
Szpilman awkwardly made his way down the hall next to this gorgeous man and hoped he wouldn't mess up this chance to talk to him. He was gladly making conversation with him even though Szpilman never even got so much as a second glance while walking around campus. 

Szpilman turned down the hall to get to his next class, Musical Theory. However, Hosenfeld stopped him before he could leave. "I noticed you were staring at me at the beginning of class," he said with a slight chuckle.   
"Oh-I-uh-um," Szpilman stuttered. He started to blush again, but before he could come up with a reply, Hosenfeld interrupted: "It's alright. It always happens. But next time, don't be so obvious."  
He took one of the scratch sheets of paper and a pen that Szpilman was holding, scribbled something on it, and gave it back to him. "This is my dorm number," he said. "Come by if you ever want a private showing," he added with a wink. He turned around and walked away. 

Szpilman was left standing there, embarrassed and slightly interested for more. 


End file.
